In Her Image
by PretendMulling
Summary: Severus Snape doesn't like or want children. It's his bad luck, then, that his sister's disappeared and left behind her six-year-old daughter, Chase. AU, takes place in vignettes from 1983 to 1994. COMPLETE as of 11/30/2011
1. Changes

**Title: _In Her Image_  
**

**Author: Pretend Mulling**

**Rating: T (mostly language)  
**

**Characters: Severus Snape, Chase Carter (OC), Rowen Snape (OC), various canon regulars.**

**Disclaimer: The vast majority of the characters appearing in this story belong to J. K. Rowling. Shame; if they didn't, I might be able to pay my way through college.**

**Summary: Severus Snape doesn't like or want children. It's his bad luck, then, that he's just been handed custody of his niece. AU, takes place in vignettes from 1983 to 1994.**

**Chapter One: Changes**

_1983_

Severus Snape sat in a shabby old armchair across from his niece, Chase. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she wore a defiant look that never sat well with him. They sat, judging each other for a moment, before he finally spoke.

"Do you know where she went?"

Chase shook her head. "She just went. What am I spozed to call you, anyway?"

"Severus." He kept studying her, his lip curling. "How long is it since you had bath?"

"I dunno. And I don't want one, either," she added, putting extra emphasis on 'don't'.

"Oh, well, that's too bad," he said, smirking. "See, I'm not sure how my sister went about this, but in my house I get the final say, and I say you're getting a bath."

Chase pouted. "She didn't do nothing wrong," she muttered.

"She didn't do _anything_ wrong," he corrected her. "And, if you'll excuse me for saying so, leaving you alone in that godforsaken flat strikes me as wrong." He stood. "Come with me."

"I'm not takin' any baths!"

"Yes, so I've heard." Severus could feel a headache forming. He wasn't good with children, especially ones as young as Chase. He started up the stairs; a moment later Chase scrambled up after him, not wanting to be alone.

_How am I going to convince her to take a bath_? He looked at her again, his lip curling involuntarily. His own hygiene could be questionable at times, but Chase was filthy. Her hair was matted and tangled, her clothes sticking to her small frame, her face more than just smudged and dirty. He turned into the bedroom, looking through the small suitcase Chase's case-worker had packed with enough clothes for a week (all of the outfits included the same vomit-inducing shade of pink) and pulling out a pair of pajamas. Then he headed to the bathroom across the hall.

"No!" Chase hovered at the door. "I tolja I'm not!"

He looked up, prepared to force her, when an idea struck him. "Do you have any clothes besides those in the suitcase?" _This should work…_

"Wha-? At home. Why?"

The window opened slightly. "You take this bath and let me wash the ones you're wearing, and I'll take you out tomorrow to get more clothes."

She looked interested. "I get to pick 'em?"

"Within reason."

She hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. "All right. I don't want you watchin'," she warned.

"I wasn't planning on it," he said, turning on the faucets and letting them run until the tub was half-full. He left, trusting that Chase knew how to wash herself. Possibly. _She can't even speak properly_, he thought, _and she'll start school in September!_

School. Merlin's beard, that was going to be troublesome. Severus re-settled himself into the armchair and stared blankly into the fireplace. He taught at Hogwarts from September to mid-June. Who knew what had led Rowen to leave now, in the middle of July? More importantly, what kind of parent left their child without a warning, without even contacting family? The only reason Chase had been found was one of the Muggles noticing that no one had been in or out of the flat for days. Good thing for Chase that Severus was on his summer holiday; any other time of the year and she'd have been sent to an orphanage.

Severus had always thought his sister something of an idiot. Brains and beauty were, apparently, mutually exclusive in his family, and if Severus couldn't give Rowen anything else, he'd admit that she was easy on the eyes. She'd become pregnant at fifteen and dropped out of Hogwarts to have Chase, completing her OWLs from home but not returning for her NEWTs. The summer following his sixth year, Severus had moved into a cheap flat in Hogsmeade and joined up with the Death Eaters, so he'd barely seen his niece until… Well, today marked the first time he'd spent more than an hour with her since she was born, when Slughorn had granted him a day off to visit with her.

"This better?" The sound of Chase's voice brought Severus out of his ruminations, and he looked up at her. The pajamas, despite being a lurid shade of pink that even Chase seemed to hate, fit her well enough, which, considering that she was so small and skinny, was a feat.

"Much better," he said. It was true: Chase's hair was still damp and tangled, but the layer of grime was gone; without it, she was revealed to be a very pretty little girl; obviously she took after her mother. He pointed his wand at her hair, which dried instantly, falling down her back in a straight, thick, jet-black curtain. "Are you hungry?"

They ate supper, just a bit of Salisbury steak and potatoes, and Severus found himself appalled at Chase's lack of table manners. _I've got my work cut out for me_, he thought as she shoveled the potatoes in her mouth. "Slow down before you choke," he said. Chase ignored him. _She probably hasn't eaten in a few days_, he reminded himself. It was still hard to sit across from her.

"When do you usually go to bed?" He asked later, scooting to the side as Chase curled up next to him on the couch.

"Whenever," she shrugged.

He looked at the clock. It was nearing eight-thirty. "Starting today, you're to be in bed no later than nine o'clock. Got it?"

Chase looked as though he'd asked her to swallow frog spawn. "What if I ain't tired?"

"I don't care if you're _not_ tired," Severus said, standing. "You'll do as I say."

"I ain't gotta listen to you," Chase growled, her blue eyes blazing, but she shrank away from him as though afraid he might hit her. "You ain't my mother."

"I may not be your mother, but yes, you _do_ have to listen to me. That's why the woman from the Council brought you to me."

"Old bat. I don't like her, Severus."

"Yes, I heard you tell her that to her face. Do you have any manners at all?"

"I got some," she snapped, standing on the couch with her tiny fists cocked.

_Cute,_ Severus thought with a sneer. "Prove it. Do as I tell you and get to bed. And don't stand on my furniture."

"No!" Chase shrieked.

Severus had reached his limit. He swooped down on her, grabbing her by the waist, and carried her upstairs, ignoring her continued protests and fists pounding his ribcage. With no small effort he shoved her into the bedroom and shut the door as she began howling. As he headed back down the stairs, he cast a Silencing Charm on the room; Chase could throw her tantrum until she ran out of steam, and neither he nor the Muggles would hear her.

He sat down at the kitchen table, rubbing his forehead as the headache worsened. For a brief second, as he'd shoved her into the room, he'd felt like hitting her. _Maybe I should have…_ As tempting as the thought was, several more pushed it out: The memory of himself at six years old, cowering in a corner as Tobias swung at him. The long nights he'd spent in too much pain to sleep after his father was through and had gone downstairs to drink himself unconscious; the mornings after, carefully picking out the best clothes to cover his bruises. No, he thought with a sigh. He couldn't put Chase through that. He wouldn't, no matter how far she pushed him. But good God in heaven, she was going to make it difficult.

XXX

The next five days were as much an uphill battle as the first. Chase had never had any sort of set schedule to her life, and Severus lived by his schedule. That was just the beginning of their differences. She also had what Severus considered disturbingly little control over her magic, which she would lose along with her temper. And there were the tantrums to contend with, as well. Within a day Severus discovered that Chase was used to getting whatever she wanted as soon as she asked for it, and had rarely (if ever) heard the word "no". He wasn't used to having his will bent by anyone, especially a spoiled child, something she'd have to learn. But Chase was as stubborn as he was, and nearly all of their interactions ended with a loss of temper on his end and tears on hers.

_This is why I never wanted children,_ he thought as he shut Chase in her bedroom for the third time one particularly bad day, ignoring her shouts and casting the Silencing Charm again. But at the same time, he knew he wouldn't give up on her. She needed a firm hand, and who better for that job than him, Severus Snape, the most feared professor at Hogwarts?

_So why is she handing me my arse on a daily basis?_

"You must be patient with her," Dumbledore said the following Saturday. He, Chase, and Severus were in his office; just a few minutes previously, Severus had dropped in the chair like a shot-put, utterly exhausted from the last week. Chase, clad in a sensible black sweater and pair of jeans (Severus would admit that Chase conducted herself well in public; at home was another story entirely), hid behind the chair, occasionally sneaking glances at Dumbledore. "You've both had a major upheaval; the adjustments won't happen overnight." He reached into one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out a bag of lemon drops. "Would you like one, Chase?" he asked, holding out the bag to her.

Timidly, Chase approached the bag and pulled out a yellow candy. As she started to walk away, Severus cleared his throat.

"What?" Chase turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Oh!" She turned back to Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir." Then she returned to her hiding place behind the chair and began sucking on the candy.

"You are most welcome. Now," he turned back to Severus. "Chase cannot live in your quarters with you. For one, the castle just isn't equipped for such living arrangements. For another, she needs to be with children her own age. It would be much easier, for her and yourself, if you went back to your house at the end of her school day."

"I beg to differ." Severus leaned towards Dumbledore. "I have no desire to put her in a Muggle school, now or in the future. She has little control over her magic as it is, and I fear that placing her in the middle of a group of Muggles would cause her to lose it completely." _Especially if they hate her as much as they hated me,_ he thought, looking sideways at Chase. Whatever his bitter feelings toward her, he didn't want her to suffer the way he'd had to.

Dumbledore seemed to hear this. "She can't control what the other children think, and neither can you. It is an unfortunate truth that she will be misunderstood by Muggles for the rest of her life, but it is pointless to hide her from them. She will have to live in both worlds, as do you. Besides, I believe there are laws about children attending school?"

Severus considered this. "They can be worked around."

"I would prefer you didn't."

"Perhaps you're right," Severus conceded, rubbing his forehead. "And it's not like the Muggles wouldn't notice. She has a 'case-worker', a Muggle woman who keeps tabs on her." At Dumbledore's confused expression, Severus explained. "Apparently, whenever the Muggle law enforcement is called due to the well-being of a child, as in cases of abandonment, they are assigned this 'case-worker' who checks in on the relatives, making sure the children are being properly cared for and offering services. Therapy and the like."

"Chase could benefit from a bit of help."

Severus shook his head. "The case-worker is uneasy around us. Chase has already told the poor woman to her face that she doesn't like her."

"Well, I don't," Chase piped up from behind the chair. "She's _nosy_, and we ain't supposed to tell her I'm a witch an' you're a wizard."

"I'm sorry," Severus growled, turning around to face her. "But did anyone ask you?"

"Severus!" Dumbledore's look was enough to quell his anger, but Chase was on the verge of tears. "Come here, Chase," Dumbledore said gently. "You've done nothing wrong."

"She must learn when to hold her tongue!" Severus did not like having his authority challenged, especially in front of the brat he was charged with raising.

"And she will," Dumbledore said, offering Chase another lemon drop. "But not right away. Patience, Severus, is the key. You _must_ be patient with her." He smiled dryly. "Save the sarcasm for your students."

Severus sat, simmering, but realized on a level he would never admit to reaching that the old man was right. Chase was just a little girl, after all; she had the rest of her formative years to learn and perfect her manners. And he… Severus realized, with a guilty jolt, that he was acting just like his father.

"Perhaps you should go," Dumbledore said, rising.

Severus nodded, standing and beckoning to Chase. After a moment's hesitation, she hurried to his side and grabbed his hand.

"Don't think that you must do this alone," Dumbledore said at the main entrance. "If this case-worker offers you assistance, take it. After all, it takes a village to raise a child."


	2. The Past and the Present

**Chapter Two: The Past and the Present**

_1984_

When Severus arrived at Salford Primary to take Chase home one afternoon, he was greeted by Chase's teacher, Miss Edelson, who looked as though she'd seen a ghost. "Mr. Snape, thank goodness," she said breathlessly. "Chase is… Well, she's in the headmistress's office, you'll have to speak to her. The headmistress, I mean. Follow me."

"What happened?" Severus asked, easily matching the woman's stride (she wasn't much shorter than him).

"It's hard to explain. See, Chase and Robert, a boy in my class, have been at loggerheads for about a week. I suppose it came to a head today; he knocked her down on the playground and…" She looked around furtively. "A tree branch came crashing down on his head, nearly took it off."

"Are you suggesting that Chase _made_ the branch fall on that boy?" Severus's blood ran cold.

"Well, no, but she glared up at the tree right before it happened." With another furtive glance, Miss Edelson said, in barely more than a whisper, "This isn't the first time something like this has happened, but it's the first time another student has been hurt by it."

"Other incidents? Like what? And why wasn't I informed of them?" Now he was angry. Did this school not recognize that, as Chase's legal guardian, he had a right to know of her behavior?

"Last month, a girl took a toy away from her, and when the other girl went to play with it, it disappeared. We were never able to find it. And then, a few weeks before that, another student took a pencil from her desk, and swore the pencil kept shrinking every time she tried to pick it up." They were at the headmistress's office.

"Rest assured," Severus said, "I shall talk with her."

He entered the office and found Chase, sitting in front of the headmistress's desk, sporting a split lip and a bruise above her right eye.

"What happened to her?" He demanded of the headmistress, a formidable-looking woman, as he took Chase's chin in his hand and looked closer at her injuries.

"A boy pushed her on the playground," she answered brusquely. Her tone angered Severus further.

"Did he _push_ her," he said, rising and turning to the woman, "or did he hit her and _then_ push her?"

"I'm sure I don't-"

"_Look at her face!_" He shouted. "That boy didn't merely _push_ her to the ground."

"There is no need to shout, Mr. Snape," the headmistress said, standing now. "She's _merely_ banged up."

"He kicked me," Chase said, her voice shaking on a sob. "Then he punched me."

"And how was this boy punished?"

"He was spoken to, and his playground privileges have been revoked for a week." The headmistress's voice was condescending; she obviously thought he was overreacting.

Severus had heard, and seen enough. He glowered at the headmistress. "I suppose you think you'll suspend her?"

"That is the school's policy," she said, but not as confidently as she hoped.

"Don't bother," he snapped. "She's not coming back."

"Mr. Snape, it is illegal to keep a child out of school-"

"But surely it's not illegal to take her out of one school and send her to another?" He said. "Especially if I remove her to a school where the boys are duly punished for hitting a girl?" When the headmistress didn't respond, he said, "Give me her file." When she produced them, he snatched the folder from her and beckoned to Chase, who followed him silently, picking up instantly on his foul mood.

Once at home, he tended to Chase's wounds. "Hold still," he said as she squirmed.

"But it stings," she whined.

"Too bad, now hold still."

"Severus," she said, gripping the edges of her seat to keep from squirming. "How come I'm not going back?"

"Because I don't like that school's policy," he said. "There's no reason that boy should have hit you. Was it the first time?"

"No, but Miss Edelson said she'd talk to him. _Ow_!" She cried out as he tapped the bruise above her eye with his wand.

"Stop your whining," he said, standing as the bruise disappeared. "And go wash up. We'll have supper in twenty minutes."

Chase ran up the stairs, and Severus began setting the table. He tapped on the side of a shallow pot, which began hissing and shaking slightly. As he put it in the oven, he considered his options. He meant it when he said he wouldn't send Chase back to that school, especially now that he knew… He ground his teeth, the headmistress's blank expression seeming to press on his eyes. Chase was an irritating little brat, but if he wouldn't raise a hand in violence toward her, he wouldn't allow anyone else to either. But now he had to find another school for her. The closest one to Spinner's End was a small Catholic school, but the idea of sending a magical child to that kind of a school made him uneasy. After all, that was the same church that had conducted a large number of witch hunts in medieval times. If it was their only option, however…

"Pot roast?" Chase whined. "I mean… Yum!" She put on a large, but obviously fake, smile as she ate.

Severus smiled. "You're learning."

XXX

Father Ansel was a warm, elderly man who brought to Severus's mind an image of Father Christmas. He even had the cherry-cheeked visage and deep, booming laugh; it was no wonder the students adored him. What mattered the most to Severus, though, was the quality of the education Chase would receive. He was relieved when the Father told him that St. John Francis Academy had won multiple awards for its curriculum, and that their students frequently scored the highest on national tests.

"Of course, we will administer tests," Father Ansel said. He and Severus had settled into his office, a comfortable if Spartan space, and the Father was reviewing Chase's file. "I wouldn't think she'd have any problem getting in; her marks are excellent, and there's a note in here from her former teacher commending her intelligence." He closed the folder and set it aside. "Are there any other concerns, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes," he said, and explained why he had taken Chase out of Salford Primary.

The Father nodded, his expression serious. "I give you my deepest assurance, Mr. Snape, that your niece will never experience that sort of treatment at this school. Violence is not tolerated here, especially not when directed at a girl from a boy."

"Excellent," Severus said, relief washing over him. "When shall I bring her in for testing?"

"Tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, if it works."

Severus nodded, stood, and shook the Father's hand. It did work; it just so happened that he had no classes that early on Wednesdays this year.

XXX

A week later, Chase looked down at her new uniform and frowned. "I don't like it, Severus."

"Too bad." He lifted her rucksack from its hook on the wall. "Put your shoes on; I have to get you there by nine."

She scowled, but did as she was told, and didn't say anything until they were stopped at a crosswalk about two blocks from the school. "Severus, what if no one likes me?"

He was silent. He didn't imagine that anyone who didn't have to live with Chase wouldn't like her: She was smart, pretty, and utterly charming when she wanted to be. On the other, he knew only too well what it was to be unpopular. Looking down at her expectant, worried face, he said, "Don't worry about it. Just do what you're told and you'll get along just fine."

She nodded, plainly not reassured. He didn't have time to worry about it; he was running late as it was. He left her at the school and disappeared down a dark alley, trusting that Chase would be okay.


	3. The Boy in the Park

**Chapter Three: The Boy in the Park**

_1985_

"Severus, how do I tell someone they're a wizard?" Chase asked, setting her bag down next to the chair at the kitchen table and pulling out her homework.

"Why?" He frowned in irritation at the essay he was grading. Since when did a recipe for the Draught of Living Death include a bezoar?

"I think a boy at school is a wizard."

He looked up at her. "What makes you think that?"

"He's just… Different. You know? He's different from the Muggles." She looked from her math book to her reader. "I saw him jump about fifteen feet today, off a swingset. And the other kids don't want anything to do with him." She opened the math book and propped it open against the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

Unbidden, a memory rose to the front of Severus's mind: Himself, just a bit older than Chase, watching Lily on the playground. "_It's obvious, isn't it? You're a witch!"_ Lily's initial reaction had been less than warm, though in hindsight he'd decided that suddenly leaping out at someone and calling them a witch could only result in that. "Approach him the way you would any of the other students," he said. "Don't just leap out and tell him he's a wizard, and above all, _don't_ tell him in front of the Muggles."

Chase rolled her eyes. "I wasn't gonna. Christ, Severus, it's like you don't trust me at all. I know the International Statue of Secrecy."

"You can't even say it right," he said, turning his attention back to the essay. "It's _statute_, not statue."

"So sue me," she said with a snort.

He threw the quill down. Chase had been getting mouthier and more sarcastic over the last year, far more than any eight-year-old should be… Or so Severus thought, not having had much contact with other eight-year-old children besides her. But even if it was a phase, he wouldn't tolerate such blatant disrespect. "Go to your room, young lady, and don't ever speak to me like that again."

Chase looked up. "See you at supper," she said. Gathering her books, she stalked up to her room and slammed the door.

Severus sighed. He couldn't wait for the authorities to find his sister; the sooner she took her hellspawn off his hands, the better.

XXX

"Mr. Snape, I'm afraid…" Chase's caseworker swallowed, uneasy as she always was around Severus and Chase. "There's been no sign at all of your sister in the last two years."

"Then you believe her dead," he said.

"If she wasn't when we found Chase, then the odds of her still being alive are extremely low." She rocked slightly on her chair, casting her eyes around the small kitchen. "I think it might be time to call off the search and declare her dead. If Chase wouldn't be to horribly affected by it?" she added, attempting to be delicate.

Severus looked at the woman, his dislike of her increasing by the second. "Of course it will affect her," he said, not bothering to keep a patronizing note out of his voice. "I will have to inform her that the authorities have called off the search for her _mother_, of all people, and want me to declare her dead in the eyes of the law. Or would you like to tell her?"

The caseworker recoiled as though she'd been slapped. "Y-you're right," she said, standing and gathering her briefcase. "Absolutely right. Um, do you need any advice on how to tell her?"

"No, thank you," he said, looking out of the window towards the park where he knew Chase and the boy from her class, the one she suspected was a wizard, were playing. "I'll tell her later."

The caseworker nodded and left without another word. _Good riddance,_ he thought, and ten minutes later he rose and left for the park.

XXX

"So then, when you get off the train, you take these boats to cross the lake." Chase's voice floated over the hedges, and in a moment Severus saw her jet-black hair as she tossed it over her shoulder. He stopped for a while to listen to them. The boy sitting opposite her was a scrawny thing, with longish blond hair and features that could have only belonged to a boy… Or an extraordinarily unfortunate girl. "And when you've crossed the lake, Professor McGonagall –she teaches Transfiguration and she's head of Gryffindor-"

"Gryffindor?" The boy interrupted. Severus didn't wonder why Chase had never brought him up before; he was obviously new to the neighborhood. Severus couldn't place his accent, though it sounded vaguely English. "What's that?"

"One of the Houses, Damien, I was just getting to them. Anyway, Professor McGonagall takes you into the Great Hall and you have to try on the Sorting Hat, and it'll put you in one of the Houses. They're Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

"That's weird," the boy, Damien, said. "How's a hat supposed to know where you should go?"

"It's an enchanted hat," Chase replied. "My uncle told me the Founders enchanted it, and that's how it Sorts people."

"Huh." Damien seemed to be lost in his own world. "Chase? Do you know any spells?"

"A few, but I'm not allowed to do 'em. My uncle would get in trouble."

"I've seen him, I think," Damien said slowly. "He looks like a whaddya-call-'em? My dad said they're 'Goz' or something."

"What's that? Goz?" Chase's eyes widened.

"They wear all black and have black hair, and my dad said they wear black makeup, too- What's so funny?" For Chase had started giggling uncontrollably when Damien had mentioned the makeup.

"S-Severus wearing makeup!" She shrieked. "It's so funny! He'd look funny!"

"Is that his name? Severus? Weird…"

Chase stopped giggling. "There's a couple of saints named Severus," she said, slightly defensively. "I read about them in the library."

"Oh…" Damien shifted slightly. "Sorry, I'd just never heard of it before."

"I've never met anyone named Damien," she replied.

A grin split Damien's face. "Then I guess we're even," he said.

"I guess," she said.

They sat in silence, and Severus chose that moment to clear his throat. Chase leapt up at the sound. "I didn't see you there," she said.

"Obviously," he said. "Come on, time to get back to the house."

Chase looked at Damien, who was shuffling his feet. "I'll see you at school Monday," she said. "And remember: You can't tell anyone, not 'til you get your letter."

"All right," he said. "See you!" And with that, he headed toward a back road.

Chase turned to Severus. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you at home," he said, his tone taking him by surprise. It was far gentler than usual, and Chase seemed to sense that something was wrong. The short walk back to the house on Spinner's End was silent, the kind of silence that hung in the air like a brick.

Back in the house, he and Chase took their places at the kitchen table. "That lady was here today," Chase said.

Severus started. "How can you tell?"

"I can smell her perfume. It's disgusting."

"Indeed," he said, marveling to himself. She really was a bright little girl. "Yes, she was here. And… Chase, no one has seen your mother in two years. They haven't had any clues or leads, and no one's heard from her. They… They don't believe she'll come back."

Chase nodded, looking down at her hands, which were clenched on the table. "So what happens now?"

"They're going to stop looking for her," he said.

"And I keep living here with you."

"Yes."

Again Chase nodded, then she excused herself to her room. Severus didn't ask why, but for the first time, he realized just how attached he was to her. He couldn't even bring himself to tell her the entire story… _But she's only eight years old, she's too young_…

_Come off it,_ another part of his mind chimed in. _You could have taken that news when you were eight. It's not your fault she's a spoiled little brat who's had the world handed to her on a silver platter._

No, he thought bitterly; it wasn't his fault, and _he_ could have taken that kind of blow at that age. His father had seen to it. But why should Chase have to be that tough? She didn't have to deal with Tobias; the sorry excuse for a human being had died the year after Severus graduated from Hogwarts, and to hell with him. Chase would _not_ be treated like that, not as long as Severus had any say in it.

He looked up to the ceiling; Chase's room, his old bedroom, was above the kitchen. He didn't know what she was doing in there, and he wasn't going to try too hard to find out. Even if he could have taken that kind of blow at that age, he wouldn't have taken it and tried to be sociable, either.


	4. Bad Blood

**Chapter Four: Bad Blood**

_1986_

"Ah, Severus." Lucius Malfoy rose from the wing-backed chair to greet his old school friend. "How wonderful to see you again. And this is Chase?" He inclined his head towards Chase, who was looking up at him with an uneasy expression.

"It is," Severus said. "Chase, where are your manners?"

She looked up at him, then back to Lucius. "'Lo, Mr. Malfoy."

"Charming," Lucius said. "Perhaps you would like to meet my son, Draco?"

"Yes, sir," Chase mumbled.

Severus forced down an exasperated sigh. He knew what Chase was up to. She had already decided she didn't like Lucius and Narcissa's son, and no argument from him could budge her. However, he'd made it clear that she had no choice but to accompany him to Malfoy Manor, so she'd agreed to be cordial at least.

Lucius, on the other hand, smiled at her. Obviously he mistook her disinterest for shyness. "He's in the garden," he said, pointing towards the back door. It led to a beautiful, perfectly-kept garden, and just visible was six-year-old Draco's white-blond head. Behind Lucius's back, Chase grimaced.

"If you'll excuse us for a moment, Lucius," Severus said, gripping Chase's shoulder and steering her toward a small sitting room. "Chase, stop it," he said once they were in there and the door was shut.

"Stop what?" She asked peevishly.

"You know what. Play with Draco, and play _nicely_."

Again, Chase pulled a face. "Severus, you have got to be joking…"

"I'm not."

She made a disbelieving noise. "I overheard you and Mrs. Malfoy talking, Severus. Don't think I don't know what's going on."

He could feel himself growing pale. So she'd heard that, had she? "It doesn't matter," he said quickly. "You're here and you'll do as I say."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but don't force me to be happy about it."

"And don't take that tone with me, young lady," he snapped, opening the door again. Chase ran past him and out into the garden; to anyone besides Severus, she looked as though she'd wanted nothing more than a chance to play with Draco Malfoy.

XXX

Chase looked Draco up and down. He was the spitting image of Lucius, even down to his voice and cold eyes. She knew she wasn't going to like him at all. And to think, Mrs. Malfoy thought she would want to _marry_ him? _Stupid lady_, she thought.

"So you live up north?" he said.

"Yeah," she said.

"And what does he teach you up there?"

"What's that?"

Draco's eyes widened, but in shock rather than curiosity. His expression remained as cold as ever. "You mean you don't get taught at home?"

"Well, no," she said, bewildered. "Severus teaches at Hogwarts all day, doesn't he? He doesn't have time-"

"So he just sends you to school with Muggles?" He asked with a sneer.

"Yeah, he does," she said shortly.

"I just asked," Draco said.

"And I answered," Chase shot back.

Draco snorted. "My father would never let me mix with Muggles… Or Mudbloods."

Chase stood up suddenly. "Shut up, Draco."

"Ooh, did that make you mad?" He asked, also standing. Despite being three years younger than her, Draco was a head taller than Chase. "Maybe you're friends with a Mudblood?"

"That's a bad word," she said. "You know it means 'dirty blood', right?"

"Bad word, sure," Draco sneered. "My father says it all the time. He says you should call things by their proper names."

"And the proper name is 'Muggle-born'!" Chase shouted.

Suddenly, she found herself sprawled in the dirt. Draco had pushed her squarely in the chest, and she'd stumbled backwards and fell. She thought about standing up and hitting him, maybe until he was crying like a baby, but then something caught her eye. Something metallic. Something shiny. She stifled the grin crossing her face.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked. So she'd given it away somehow.

"You push like a girl," she lied, standing up. "Anyway, it's a stupid argument. Truce?" She held her right hand out for him to shake, but kept her left behind her back, crossing her fingers.

"All right," Draco said, taking it.

"Good," Chase said. "Come over here, I want to show you something." She beckoned and, once sure he would follow, walked over to the large metal things she'd seen earlier.

XXX

"She's a charming little girl, Severus," Lucius said, taking a sip of his wine. "And Narcissa told me quite intelligent. I'm sure she and Draco will get along just fine."

"Getting along is one thing, Lucius," Severus said. "But you and Narcissa are already thinking of marriage. Aren't they a bit young for that?"

"There's nothing wrong with planning for the future." Lucius set down the wine glass. "Why shouldn't she and Draco get to know each other better? Why shouldn't they play together on a regular basis?"

Severus considered this. Perhaps Lucius had a point, and why shouldn't Chase marry into the Malfoy family? Not now, of course, but in the future. And perhaps Chase would grow to like Draco. He nodded. "Well, all in good time." He took a sip of wine, noting that it was sublime. "What year is this?" He asked, indicating the bottle.

Lucius was about to answer, but Narcissa's shriek cut across him. "What the-" Lucius said, standing up and drawing his wand. Severus did likewise, and both followed her shout to the garden.

"Draco, my boy!" Narcissa was saying, holding her shaking son tightly. Chase was standing off to the side, smirking, but her expression faltered when Severus caught her eye.

"What happened?" Severus asked, heading for Chase.

"I don't know," Chase said defiantly.

"She shoved me in a bin!" Draco squealed. "'Cause I said 'Mudblood' to her!"

"Draco!" Lucius said sharply. "Chase is no Mudblood. Do not insult her like that again, understand?"

Severus had an idea that the word hadn't been used like that, but couldn't say it in front of the Malfoys. Instead he grabbed Chase's wrist. "I think we should leave," he said. "My niece needs a lesson in how to play with other children."

Lucius nodded, and escorted Severus and Chase to the front door. "He'll be all right, Severus," he said as they entered the foyer. "He's more shaken up than anything."

"Even still," Severus said. "Thank you for having us today, Lucius." He bowed himself and Chase out, and once they were safely away from the house, performed Side-Along Apparition with Chase in tow.

"What did I tell you?" He roared , rounding on her in the living room.

"He said-" Chase began.

"I don't care what he said," he went on, cutting across her. "If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times: _You must control your temper_!"

"What, like you are now?" Chase sneered.

It was too much. He had taken her attitude for too long. Before he knew what was happening, Severus slapped Chase so hard she fell. Horrified, he watched as she looked up at him with scared, tear-filled eyes, and before he could say another word, she had run up to her room and slammed the door.

Severus sat down in the armchair nearest the fireplace, gripping the armrests to keep his hands from shaking. It had happened, as he knew it would. He'd struck her. _I'm just like him_.

"No, you are not," Dumbledore said an hour later, after Severus had taken the fireplace into his office, explained what had happened, and was sitting across from the desk with his face in his hands. "You made a mistake, Severus, and you have learned from it."

"It doesn't matter," Severus said, his voice muffled. "I've done it, and she won't come near me now."

"But you have learned from this," Dumbledore said, standing and crossing to the chair, standing in front of Severus and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That is where your father failed, and where you will succeed."

"I shouldn't have done it at all!" Why didn't Dumbledore get it? He was a monster; he wasn't to be trusted around children, and Chase… _She'll be taken away,_ he realized, an unusual stab of pain in his chest.

"Severus," Dumbledore said quietly, "it is not possible to be perfect all the time, least of all when raising a child. You saw how Chase reacted when you struck her; tell me, and for your own sake be honest: Will you ever do it again?"

He considered this. Then, after several long moments… "No."

"Of course you won't," Dumbledore said.

Severus looked up at him. So he would never hit Chase again, but…

"She will not be upset for long," Dumbledore said. "But she won't forget what has happened."

"What should I do?" Severus asked.

"Own your actions. Admit that you were wrong, and apologize. Tell her it will never happen again, and more than that, _ensure_ it never happens again. She will forgive you, and one day she will realize that it was only a brief lapse in control on your part."

Severus nodded, standing. "Thank you."

XXX

"Chase?" He called softly, opening the door to her room. A small, scared noise reached his ears; she was hiding under the bed. "Chase, come here."

"No," she said, her voice shaking.

"I'm sorry."

"You hit me."

"I know," he said, kneeling beside the bed. "I shouldn't have. I didn't mean to."

She sniffled. "You'll hit me again if I come out."

"No I won't," he said.

A rustling from under the bed, and Chase's head emerged. Her eyes were red and swollen. "You mean it?"

"Yes."

Slowly, nervously, she emerged. She sniffled again and wiped at her eyes. _Oh God,_ Severus thought, his heart breaking as he watched her. "Come here," he said, taking her hand gently, hating that she flinched as he held out his hand to her. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed. It's been a long day."

She didn't say anything else as he washed her face and rubbed some anti-bruising solution on her face, as a precaution, then led her back to her room so she could change into her pajamas. He retreated to his own room, still miserable, still hating himself for giving in and becoming his father for a moment.

Hours later, he hadn't fallen asleep. He got up and returned to Chase's room, where he found that she'd tossed the covers off. He retrieved them and straightened them out, taking extra care as he covered her again. She awoke as he smoothed the blankets down.

"Go back to sleep," he said in a low voice.

"Severus?"

"Yes?" he said.

She got up and hugged him.

He was taken aback by the gesture, but returned it almost immediately, then picked her up and set her back on the bed. One day at a time, he reminded himself.


	5. December

**Chapter Five: December**

1987

_Knock-knock-knock_. Severus rose to answer the door, wondering who could possibly be calling on Christmas Day.

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Snape," Damien said as Severus opened the door. He was holding a small, badly-wrapped package. "Can I come in? I have a present for Chase."

"Very well," Severus said, stepping aside to let the boy pass. "Stay here," he said, motioning towards the kitchen table. When Damien had seated himself, Severus went upstairs.

"Chase!" He knocked on her door a few minutes later. "Your friend is here."

Chase opened the door and poked her head out. "Really? Why?"

"He says he's got something for you."

"Oh." Her face clouded. "I haven't got anything for him... I didn't think he'd-"

"Chase?" Damien's voice came floating up the stairs.

"Coming!" She said, flattening herself against the wall and passing Severus, who shook his head after her. _Impudent, the both of them._ But he followed her down the stairs, arriving in the kitchen just in time to see Damien hand her the package.

"Thank you," she said, pulling the wrapping off carefully. "Oh..." she breathed, and held up a silvery chain with a small, bright blue gem on it. It was a cheap necklace, Severus could tell, but obviously Chase liked it; a smile was spreading across her face.

Damien blushed and looked down at his boots. "It matches your eyes," he mumbled. Severus had a feeling Chase wasn't supposed to hear that part. If she had, she was tactful enough to pretend otherwise.

"Help me put it on," she said, holding out the tiny clasp to Damien and gathering her hair on the back of her head. He walked over, face still flushed, and with surprising dexterity latched the necklace.

"I have three younger sisters," Damien explained to Severus, catching the curious look on his face. "I've had to help them put on and take off more necklaces and doll clothes than I care to remember."

Severus nodded. He, of course, had never bought Chase any dolls (she never seemed to want them), and his own parents hadn't been the type to give toys as gifts, if they remembered the holidays or their childrens' birthdays at all. Chase hadn't gone so neglected, but his gifts to her were more likely to be practical: New clothes and shoes, and school supplies as she needed them. This Christmas he'd replaced almost her entire wardrobe, as she'd grown at least six inches over the last year.

"Um, Mr. Snape?" Damien said. "Is it okay if Chase comes over to my house on New Year's Eve? It's my birthday, see."

"Please, Severus?" Chase asked, her eyes wide.

"Very well," he said. "I want you back here by twelve-thirty, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Chase and Damien replied at the same time.

XXX

Chase did her best not to ask many questions on New Year's Eve. True, only Damien's family was around, but none of them knew about her being a witch or Damien being a wizard. Chase had told him, and Damien had agreed, that it might be easier for his parents to take the news from an adult. Instead she turned her attention to the television set across the living room. She'd heard of them before, and of course she'd seen them while walking around Manchester, but Severus didn't own one. Not hard to see why, Chase thought as Mr. Grant turned it on. You couldn't tell it what you wanted to watch, and it had to be controlled through "ant-innas".

"Damien told me your uncle doesn't have a telly, Chase," Mr. Grant said as he sat down on the couch.

"No, sir," Chase answered.

"If you don't mind me asking, why?"

"Er..." She couldn't see any way to answer this without sounding a bit off-the-wall.

Fortunately Damien had walked into the living room behind his father. "He's a Luddite, Dad."

"I see."

"He said he heard it called a 'vast wasteland' when he was a kid," Chase expanded.

Mr. Grant chuckled. "They did. Well, it's not all a waste. How old is he, by the way?"

"Twenty-eight on the ninth."

"Well, tell him many happy returns from me."

"Yes, sir." Chase curled up on the floor and turned to the set, watching some Muggle band lip-synching a popular song.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up in her own bed and Severus was calling her down for breakfast.

"What happened?" She yawned as she sat down at the kitchen table.

"You fell asleep," Severus said, putting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her. "Mr. Grant brought you home."

Chase poked moodily at her eggs. _That was brilliant,_ she thought. _Fall asleep at a friend's house on the one night it's okay to stay up past midnight. On his birthday, no less._

Damien came around to Spinner's End that afternoon. "It's all right," he said when Chase apologized for falling asleep. "I didn't make it ten minutes past midnight, myself. And honestly, I don't think anyone noticed you were asleep until Mum asked you when you needed to be home. By the way, what are you doing for your birthday?"

"Nothing, I think," Chase said. "Severus will probably get me a new coat, but other than that..."

"Hm," Damien mused. "Ask him if you can come round my place then, okay? My mum will make you a cake and everything."

"I will. Thanks, Damien." She hugged him and went back inside, smiling broadly.


	6. The Sorting

**Chapter Six: The Sorting**

_1988_

"All right," Chase said. "We've got the robes, the books, the cauldron and scales... Severus, can I have a cat? Please?"

"When you're older," he answered vaguely, scanning the list. "You need your wand now."

"You're buying me a new one?" Chase said, her eyes wide.

"I don't have a choice; your mother's nowhere to be found and your grandmother's wand was snapped before you were born." He put his hand on her shoulder and steered her toward Ollivander's.

They were quiet as they entered the small, dusty shop; out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Chase trying to hold back a sneeze.

"Ah, Severus."

Severus turned at the sound of his name; Ollivander had come out from the back of his shop. "Birch and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches. And... My word." He stopped when he saw Chase.

"My niece, Chase," Severus said; Chase, for one of only a few times in his memory, was speechless.

"Indeed," Ollivander said. "She is the very image of her mother. Well then, my dear-" he turned to Chase. "Which is your wand arm?"

"My left," Chase whispered, and held it out as the tape measure began taking her measurements. Ollivander took several boxes from the shelves and, arms loaded down, brought them back to the counter. "Now this one," he said, taking a shortish wand out of the top box. "Rowan and unicorn hair, eight inches. Good for charm work."

Chase took it timidly and waved the wand, but nothing happened.

"Try this one. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Go on."

Again Chase took the wand and waved it around. It flew out of her hand and hit the wandmaker on the nose, causing a large purple boil to erupt on it.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed, looking horrorstruck.

"Not a problem, my dear, not a problem," Ollivander said kindly, tapping the boil with his own wand and making it disappear. "It happens. Try this one..."

Severus watched as Chase tried what seemed like hundreds of different wands -"Vine wood and unicorn hair, ten inches", "elder and dragon heartstring, nine inches", "ash and phoenix tail feather, fourteen inches"- and as Chase became more confused, Ollivander seemed more determined.

"Ah, I think I have it," he said, pulling down a box that looked positively ancient. "Ebony and dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter inches. Best for defensive magic."

Chase took the wand, and from the look on her face Severus realized it was the one. Chase smiled and levitated a flower vase a few inches off the counter, setting it back down as gently as if it were made of the finest bone china.

Severus stood and paid for the wand (thirteen Galleons and four Sickles), and as they left the shop, he warned her again: "Don't touch it until you're at Hogwarts."

"Why are you always so worried about me?" Chase said indignantly. "I know the laws as well as you do, Severus."

"Because I am your guardian and I'm legally obliged to worry about you," he snapped. "And if you don't shape up your attitude, I might decide you're not mature enough to start at Hogwarts this year."

She said nothing else, though Severus was sure she was biting back several bitter retorts. _You can tell I raised her,_ he thought as they ate a silent dinner that night.

XXX

Chase drank in the energy on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, scanning the crowd for Damien. "There he is," she said, pointing toward him.

"Right," Severus said. "Now behave yourself on the train, and remember: When you're at Hogwarts I'm 'Professor' or 'Sir', not 'Severus', understood?"

"We've already been over this," she said impatiently.

"_Chase_..."

"I understand," she said, more impatiently still. "Now can I go with Damien?"

"Yes." He gave her a brief, one-armed hug before turning and leaving the platform. Chase didn't take his abrupt departure personally; she knew Dumbledore had made a special exception to let him see her safely onto the Hogwarts Express, and next year she'd make the journey with the Grants.

"Chase! Chase, over here!" Damien called, and she rushed to him as fast as she could while towing her trunk behind her. Beside him stood the oldest of his sisters, Laurie, with a sour look on her face.

"But why can't I go?" Laurie whined.

"You're not old enough, and we don't know that you're a witch," Damien said patiently.

She sniffed. "Fine. You and Chase go, then, and have a _great_ time." She turned on her heel and stomped toward the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, while Damien looked after her, hurt and confusion etched on his face.

"It's all right, son," Mr. Grant said kindly. "She'll come 'round. Now let's get you two situated..."

Ten minutes later, their trunks loaded and the rest of Damien's sisters having been kissed good-bye by their brother ("and be sure to tell me if I have another sister," he told his five-months-pregnant mother, who assured him she'd tell the moment the baby came), he and Chase boarded the Hogwarts Express. The closest compartment was also mercifully empty, and they leaned out of the window to wave the Grants good-bye, waving and shouting until the train rounded the corner.

"So how do you like Diagon Alley?" Chase asked, sitting down across from Damien.

"It's the coolest place I've ever been," he said, his face shining. "And look at this." He pulled out his wand. "Maple and unicorn tail hair, fifteen inches."

"Very nice," she said, and showed him her wand.

He admired it for a moment, then looked back at his own wand. "Um, Chase... What's a Mudblood?"

She sat up at the word. "Who called you that?" She demanded.

"Some kid I passed on my way out of Gringotts," he said. "He was kind of big and thuggish-looking. Is it a bad word?"

"It's a really bad word," she said. "Severus heard me say it once; I thought his head would explode, he was so angry."

"But what is it? What is a Mudblood?"

"It's a foul word for a Muggle-born witch or wizard." How could anyone call Damien that word? Hadn't Severus promised to permanently tie her tongue if he ever heard her call anyone "Mudblood" again? "Some pure-bloods use it because they think they're the best kind of wizards."

"But why does it matter?" He asked, looking downcast. "It's going to affect how I do at Hogwarts, isn't it? Being Muggle-born?"

"Of course not," Chase said, in what she thought was a reassuring tone.

Damien's eyes flashed. "Don't patronize me, Chase."

"I'm not patronizing you," she said. "Damien, listen: Magic ability isn't about your blood status. Severus told me the best witch in his year at Hogwarts was Muggle-born, and there are pure-bloods who can't tell their wand from a stick of firewood. You've got loads of magic; you'll be fine."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah. Don't let one stupid pure-blood thug ruin your time at Hogwarts. Actually, don't let any of them ruin it. We're gonna have a blast, remember?"

He relaxed, and they turned their discussion to the Houses. "Where are you going, d'you think?" Damien asked her.

"I don't know," she said. "Severus was in Slytherin, and so was my grandmother, but my mum was in Ravenclaw."

"So it's a real toss-up for you."

"Basically, but between you and me," she said, leaning forward again. "I don't think Severus wants me to be in Slytherin."

"Really?" Damien's eyes widened in shock. "Why not?"

"I don't know, but he told me not to fight with the Hat if it puts me somewhere besides Slytherin." She leaned back and looked out the window thoughtfully.

"Do you think I'll be in Slytherin?" Damien asked.

"I... I don't think so."

"Well, what's keeping me out of it?"

Chase fidgeted. "Nothing," she muttered.

"Chase?"

"Well..." She paused for a minute, thinking about how she was going to put this. "Remember you asked me why being pure-blood or Muggle-born mattters a minute ago?" He nodded. "Slytherin kind of... Well, Slytherin won't take any Muggle-borns, it's almost all pure-blood," she finished quickly, looking away as she felt tears pricking her eyes. _Why?_

"Does that mean..." He looked worried. "Chase, promise me you won't let the Hat put you in Slytherin, please."

"I can't ask it that!"

"Why not?"

"Because that's not how the Hat works! It puts you where it thinks you'll do best!"

"But if you're in Slytherin, we can't be friends! Please, Chase, you're my best friend; don't let the Hat put you in Slytherin."

Her blue eyes met his hazel ones, full of worry. "I promise."

XXX

Severus watched from the staff table as the first years entered the Great Hall. Chase was in the middle, and Damien stood beside her, and from what he could see they were holding hands.

As he sat and watched the two, Severus was too strongly reminded of another pair of children, one half-blood and one Muggle-born, entering the Great Hall like that nearly twenty years ago. Lily had gone to Gryffindor, and Severus... _Such intelligence_, the Hat had said. _Courage, yes, and loyalty, but the __brains..._ _Oh my, I think the last student I Sorted with this much brainpower was Dumbledore himself. ...My boy, why do you insist on Slytherin? You belong in Ravenclaw, it's where you'll meet your true potential. No? Very well, if you insist... SLYTHERIN!_ And he'd gone; how bitterly now he wished he'd let the Hat put him where it wanted.

"Carter, Chase!" McGonagall called, and Chase walked up to the stool, trembling slightly. _Not Slytherin. Anywhere but Slytherin_, Severus thought desperately. _Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff, for God's sake, or Gryffindor; just not Slyth-_

"RAVENCLAW!" The Hat shouted. Chase took it off and ran to the Ravenclaw table, and Severus felt himself relax. She was safe. _They_ were safe. Just as long as they ended up in the same House...

"Grant, Damien!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

In later years, Severus would never remember how he kept himself from burying his head in his arms and groaning, right there at the staff table.


	7. Questions and Answers

**Chapter Seven: Questions and Answers**

_1989_

"Chase, are you all right?" Mrs. Grant's brow furrowed in concern. She and Damien had stopped by the house to pick up Chase for a day at the shopping center (Severus had changed enough gold at Gringott's to give her fifty pounds the previous day). The day was blistering hot, but despite the heat, Chase wore a winter coat buttoned to the top. "You can't be cold..."

"I'm fine," Chase muttered, drawing her coat more tightly around her. But as they walked on towards the shopping center, she began to feel light-headed and stupid from the heat. Passing Muggles looked quizically at her; a few pointed and whispered to their partners. Still she refused to take off the coat. Something strange was happening, and she didn't want anyone to see it.

"Chase, come here," Mrs. Grant said after a few minutes in the store. "There's a dress over here I think would be adorable on you."

Damien grimaced apologetically in her direction, and Chase went over to the rack where his mother was standing.

"Well, what do you think?" Mrs. Grant asked, holding the dress out to her.

"I don't like pink, much," Chase said.

"Well, here's one in blue." Mrs. Grant pulled another dress -a different style from the first- off the rack. "Come try it on. It'll bring out your eyes."

Chase looked at the dress again, then back to Mrs. Grant. The dress had a zipper in the back; surely she knew that, and knew Chase couldn't put it on by herself. "Okay," she said, deciding to play along until Mrs. Grant told her what she really wanted to say.

"Mrs. Grant," she called from the dressing room five minutes later. "I need zipped up, please."

Mrs. Grant slipped inside the door, making sure no one could see Chase, and obligingly pulled the zipper up. "Now turn around so I can see you properly." Chase turned, her arms crossed over her chest. Mrs. Grant looked hard at her. "I thought so."

"Sorry?"

"Chase, your breasts are starting to grow. It's nothing to be ashamed of, and it's not worth giving yourself heatstroke for." She smiled kindly.

"They're ugly," Chase muttered. "When will they go back to normal?"

"They won't," Mrs. Grant said gently. "They'll keep growing for a couple of years." She looked Chase up and down again. "With your build, I don't think they'll get very big. But we should get you couple of training bras, anyway. Get dressed, and when you come out I'll take you to that section."

Chase emerged from the dressing room in her regular jeans and tee shirt (she'd decided to leave the coat off this time), and Mrs. Grant took her to a section of the store where the mannequins were dressed in lacy bras and knickers. The sight gave her an odd feeling.

"Here we are," Mrs. Grant said, pulling three of what Chase could only imagine were "training bras" off a hook. "These will get you used to wearing a bra." She stared at them for a moment. "Wonder why your uncle didn't tell you this would happen," she muttered.

"He's a man," Chase said. "I don't think this kind of stuff happens to guys."

"Not the same stuff, but pretty similar." She turned back to Chase. "It's called 'puberty', and it's when your body starts maturing to what it'll look like when you're an adult." She handed the bras to Chase and knelt down in front of her, so they were eye-to-eye. "You're going to go through a lot of changes in the next few years; so will Damien. There's nothing you can do about it, but if you have any questions, I'll answer them, okay? Don't be afraid to ask."

Chase nodded, and found herself wondering the same thing: Why _hadn't_ Severus told her about this puberty thing? Why hadn't he told her she'd get ugly lumps on her chest and grow six inches in a year and her stomach would start hurting every month and-

"By the way, did you like the dress?"

XXX

"Mrs. Grant." Severus inclined his head toward her. "I trust my niece behaved today?"

"She was perfect, Mr. Snape," Mrs. Grant said. "Could I talk to you for a moment? Privately?" She added, nodding significantly at her son.

Chase picked up on it immediately. "Damien, have I shown you that book on magical fungi? I was telling you about it the other day." Before Damien had time to protest, Chase had grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the sitting room. "It's up here somewhere-"

Severus stepped out onto the stoop and shut the door behind him.

"Mr. Snape, I think it might be time for you and Chase to have the talk," Mrs. Grant said.

"The talk," he replied. "She's only twelve."

"Well... When did your parents-"

"They didn't," he said.

"Oh." She tried again. "You see, Chase is beginning to develop, and while we were out today, she wore a coat to try and hide it. She had no idea... She didn't believe me when I told her it happens to all girls." When Severus remained silent, she said, "I know it's difficult, having to explain that to a child, but I've already told Chase she's free to come to me with any questions-"

"I could answer them for her," Severus said, slightly defensively. "She trusts me."

"I know, but with all due respect, Chase is a girl. She might be more comfortable asking a woman some of those questions. Does she have an aunt or a grandmother she could ask, if she doesn't want to ask you or me?"

"No," Severus said. "My mother died ten years ago, and she didn't have any other family." Not entirely true, he knew, but the Princes had never looked at Eileen after she married a Muggle and produced the "mongrels," as he'd distinctly heard a haughty Prince cousin call him in his first year at Hogwarts.

"Well... I'm extending the same offer to you," Mrs. Grant said. "If she has a question you're not sure how to answer, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," Severus said. He opened the door and called Chase. After Damien and his mother left, Severus shut the door and returned to the sitting room.

In truth, he wouldn't ask Mrs. Grant for advice. Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey had been utterly annoying in their conversations with him about how to get Chase through her teen years. Secretly he appreciated the help; he only wished it hadn't come with a tone that suggested that he was utterly clueless, being both a man and twenty-nine years old.

"This is _not_ how this is supposed to go on," he heard Chase grouse from upstairs. "Severus-"

"Turn it around!" He called.

"I'm all twisted up; I can't!"

He sighed and made his way resignedly up to her room. Indeed, Chase was completely caught in her training bra; he straightened it out, trying not too look too much at her. "You'll have to learn to do this yourself," he said. "It's not proper for me to help you."

"I don't suppose you can tell me how to put it on right?"

"Do I look like I've ever worn one of those things?" He snapped.

She turned to him, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly. "Do you want the _right_ answer, or the _honest_ one?"


	8. Flowers

**Chapter Eight: Flowers**

_1990_

One morning, just after New Year's, Chase woke up to find a red stain on her sheets, which turned out, upon closer inspection, to be blood. "Merlin's pants!" She yelped, leaping back in horror. Why was there blood on her sheets? She'd never heard of this before; maybe Severus knew.

She started to get dressed, but the sight of blood on her knickers stopped her. _Disgusting_, she thought briefly. _My God, I'm dying!_ Was the next thought to cross her mind. Of course; people only bled from that part of their body when they were dying, right? _But I'm too young to die!_ She felt tears stinging her eyes, and before she knew what was happening, she was curled up on the floor in her nightgown, holding her bloodstained panties, and screaming for her uncle.

"What is it?" Severus snapped a moment later, having dashed up the stairs from the cellar. When he saw Chase crying in the corner, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Chase, you're going to have to deal with school drama on your own-"

"I think you'd be sad that I'm dying!" She said fiercely, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and glaring at him. "I'm dying, and all you can think about is that _one_ time when I called Filch a filthy-"

"It doesn't bear repeating," he said shortly. "And what is this nonsense about you dying? You look in perfect health to me."

"Well, I'm not." Chase told Severus about waking up to the spot of blood on her bedsheets, then held out her knickers to him as further proof.

"Indeed," he said, levitating the knickers into the laundry basket and avoiding looking at them.

"So now we've established that I am actually dying... I want Damien to have my books-" Chase began.

"You are not dying!" Severus snapped.

"Yes I am!"

"No, you're not. It's called menstruating, and it will happen to you once a month for the next fifty years."

There was a ringing silence. Then Chase said, "_Fifty years?_". When Severus nodded, she let out a noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a sob, and crawled back into bed.

"Would you like some tea?" Severus asked in a gentler tone.

"No," Chase said, her voice slightly muffled by the blankets. "But are you sure this won't kill me?"

"Yes," he said, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Chase waited until his footsteps died away, then swore into her pillow. This wasn't going to kill her? So why did it feel horrible, and why was there so much blood? She closed her eyes; whether it was this "menstruating" thing or the crying she'd done earlier, she had a headache.

XXX

That look. That patronizing, pitying look the clerk at the store was giving him... Severus took a deep breath. He hated that look. Dimly, he wondered if any of them were actually aware they were doing it.

"Here you are, sir," she said, handing him the bag containing the necessary boxes. He registered just how stupid it was to call the things "sanitary napkins" when she spoke again. "I think you're doing a great job, by the way."

"I beg your pardon?" He said, jerking his head up to look at her again.

She was smiling at him, not in the patronizing way he'd thought, but warmly. "My dad raised me on his own, too. Single dads don't get enough credit, you know what I mean? Especially when they're raising girls. Well, all the best to the both of you," she said, and turned back to the till.

Severus muttered "Thanks," then left the store quickly. The clerk had thought Chase was his daughter? He shivered slightly as he stepped out into the bitter January afternoon, but a small ember of pride had lit up his chest. _I must have done something right_.

When Severus got back to the house and let himself into Chase's room, he found her asleep. To his surprise, she felt slightly feverish. He wasn't sure exactly what to do; somehow, for all their talks and trying to prepare him for this day, neither Minerva nor Poppy had managed to tell him everything he should expect. He decided to let her sleep.

"It's perfectly normal," Minerva McGonagall said a few days later, after Severus had told her about Chase's fever. He had returned to Hogwarts for the day to check his supplies of potions ingredients, and on his way out, he'd run into her coming out of her classroom. "Most women run a bit of a fever during that time of the month. You did the right thing, letting her sleep through it. But next month, make sure she has some painkillers, at least for the first day." She smiled a bit. "They grow up fast, don't they?"

Severus nodded, thinking, _Not nearly fast enough._

"You know, Severus, it's funny," Minerva went on. "But Chase is so very like Lily Evans." Severus looked back to her, finding that she had a misty look in her eye. "So bright, so full of life... Her voice even sounds a bit like Lily's, sometimes."

"Does it?" Severus said quietly, not bothering to wonder why Minerva would talk about Lily in front of him. She didn't know... Only Dumbledore knew, and to the headmaster's credit, he'd never divulged this secret.

"Oh yes. And cheeky like her, sometimes. It's a shame, really; Chase would have done well in Gryffindor. Well," she said, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. "I'll see you next week, Severus, and if you need any help with Chase again, please don't hesitate to ask."

He nodded and left, looking at the list of potions ingredients again without really seeing it. Was Minerva right, and was Chase anything like Lily? _Right,_ he thought scathingly, _because Lily was a spoiled, petulant little brat, just like Chase_. But now that Minerva had mentioned it... Chase did sometimes sound a bit like Lily, he supposed, but since they'd both grown up in roughly the same part of Manchester that was only to be expected. As for the cheek? Oh, he believed it; he'd had to live with it for the last seven years. And maybe... Did Chase really have the same personality as Lily had? He thought about it for a moment. Hadn't she made friends with Damien when the other Muggles at their school had shunned him? Didn't she stand up for him now, as she had then?

_Come off it,_ he told himself. _Lily's gone; Chase is nothing like her._ He put the comparisons out of his head and, once he reached the point where the castle's Anti-Disapparation Jinx ended, apparated to Diagon Alley, and didn't think again about the similarities, or lack thereof, between Chase and Lily again.


	9. Fourth Year

**Chapter Nine: Fourth Year**

_1991_

"Miss Carter," Professor Flitwick said to Chase as she began to leave Charms. "Professor McGonagall wants to see you in her office right now."

"Thank you, sir," Chase said, and headed for the Transfiguration classroom, wondering why on earth McGonagall wanted to see her. Was it her last test? _Oh, I'll bet it was my answer about Switching Spells; it wasn't nearly good enough. I got the idea, though, will she let me go with that? Why do I even ask, of course she won't... Or maybe she thinks I'm the one behind the-_

"Oh, there you are, Miss Carter," McGonagall said, bringing Chase back to her senses. Chase was startled to find that McGonagall's face was drawn. "In here, please." She guided Chase into her office. Damien was sitting in front of her desk, looking as confused as Chase felt.

"I thought it might be easier to hear if she was with you. You've always seemed so close..." McGonagall sat down at her desk and looked Damien dead in the eye. "Grant, I've just received an urgent letter from your mother. Your father has died."

The four words hung in the air. _Mr. Grant..._ She looked at Damien. His face was now a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "How-?" He finally whispered.

"She said he was doing a demonstration with fighter aeroplanes," McGonagall said. "And the last maneuver he and his team were doing went wrong." She stood up and crossed in front of the desk, placing a hand gently on Damien's shoulder. "I'll bring her up here in a few minutes. I'm so sorry, Grant." She spoke the last part so gently, it was hard to believe the woman saying it really was McGonagall. She left, and Chase was left with Damien, who looked completely lost.

"Damien? Are you... Are you all right?" Chase said, immediately regretting that she'd said anything to break the terrible silence.

"It's a mistake," Damien said. The words sounded as though they were being pulled out of his mouth. "My dad was a great pilot; got top marks at the Air Force academy. He'd have never... It just can't be right, Chase. He knew what he was doing."

At that moment, McGonagall returned. Mrs. Grant was behind her, and immediately she knew that this was no mistake, and Mr. Grant was dead. Mrs. Grant's eyes were swollen and red, and as Damien stood she collapsed, sobbing, onto him. Chase looked over to McGonagall, feeling like an intruder.

When Mrs. Grant had finally composed herself, she said, "I'm sorry, darling... The funeral is on Friday, and..." She turned to Chase. "If you'd like... I mean, you were as important to Michael as any of us-"

Chase looked back to McGonagall. "If it's okay with my uncle..."

"I shall ask Professor Snape for his permission," McGonagall said at once. "Miss Carter, if you will come with me."

Three days later, Chase sat in the crowded sanctuary of a church whose name she didn't remember, hoping she could attribute her discomfort and queasiness to the strange situation. She'd never been to a funeral before.

The comments seemed to fly in every direction: ""Such a pity..." "And what is Linda going to do? With six kids and all!" "She never did tell us which school she sent the boy to-"

Chase had no idea what was going on, but in a moment she had locked herself in the nearest bathroom. _Too many people_, she thought, wetting a paper towel and wiping it across her forehead. _I hope._

"Chase?" Mrs. Grant was knocking on the door. Chase unlocked it, realizing suddenly that she didn't want to open her mouth. "Are you feeling all right, dear?"

Weakly, Chase shook her head.

"I didn't think so." She brushed her hand against Chase's forehead. "I'll have Damien walk you home."

On the way, she tripped. As Damien grabbed her arm to steady her, he said, "I'm calling your uncle when we get to your place."

She shook her head and swallowed hard. "I'm fine," she muttered.

"No you're not; you feel like someone just pulled you out of a furnace."

She started to reply, then ducked behind a tall patch of weeds and threw up. "All right, call him," she said hoarsely, wiping her mouth on her sleeve as she returned.

"I was going to anyway."

XXX

Severus touched Chase's forehead. Damien's claim that she was "running a fever" had been something of an understatement; her skin felt uncomfortably hot even to him. He uncorked a vial of fever-reducing draft and propped her into a sitting position against her pillow. "Drink it," he said, holding the vial up to her lips.

She turned her head away. "Couldn't keep it down," she muttered.

"Drink it," he repeated.

Reluctantly she swallowed the potion, but almost immediately leapt up. Severus found himself thrown against the wall as she bolted past, and he winced as he heard her retching. She came back a moment later and, shivering, burrowed under the blankets. "Severus, be honest: Am I going to die?"

"No, you're not," he said brusquely.

"That was the wrong answer." She muttered, and rolled over; a moment later she was asleep.

Severus sighed and rubbed his forehead, then retreated to the sitting room, where he opened the _Evening Prophet_ and began to read. A knock at the door roused him just as he finished. He rose and opened the door, finding himself face-to-face with Damien's mother. "Mrs. Grant," he said.

"I wanted to see how Chase was doing," she said.

A sound of racing footfalls from upstairs, a door slamming open, and a moment later they both heard Chase retching. "She's been better."

"Poor thing," Mrs. Grant said sympathetically.

"I apologize, Mrs. Grant," Severus said. "If I had known she was ill-"

She waved her hand dismissively. "I've seen this type of flu before. It comes on quickly, lasts a couple of days, and then goes the same way it came. The girls had it a few months ago."

"Even still..."

Mrs. Grant smiled kindly at him. "She didn't ask for this, and I can't imagine she's enjoying it."

There was a loud groan from upstairs. "Thank you for coming by," Severus said. Mrs. Grant nodded and turned, and Severus, shutting the door behind her, decided to give the fever-reducing draft one more try.

Chase shook her head at it. "If it's not something that will kill me, I don't want it."

"Oh, stop with the melodrama," Severus growled. "It's a stomach flu, that's all." Chase glared at him. He sighed. "Fine. I'll be back later."

"All right," she muttered, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

Hours later, he checked on Chase again. Her sheets lay crumpled on the floor. He lay a hand on her forehead, startled at how much warmer she felt now than earlier that afternoon. "Wake up," he said, shaking her. Chase whined and slept on. Growling to himself, he propped her up against the pillows and poured a measure of Fever-Reducer down her throat. She coughed but didn't wake up, and he returned to his own room where he collapsed, exhausted, onto his bed. He had to return to the school tomorrow.

XXX

"Ugh..." Chase made a face as she pushed herself off her sweat-soaked pillow, then reached up to brush her hair off her forehead. It took a moment for her to realize that she was sweating because the fever had finally broken. She felt slightly better, but still weak and shaky as she grabbed some clean clothes and made a beeline for the shower. _This was disgusting,_ she thought as she waited for the water to warm up. _I hope Severus doesn't get this. What's Severus left me for dinner? Uh, wrong question... _She thought as her stomach lurched warningly.

After showering and dressing, she returned to her bedroom, where she saw a letter from Severus on the desk:

_Returned to Hogwarts. Your friend Sarah was kind enough to send you her in-class notes, and also asked for copies of your homework. They are on the kitchen table. If you're well enough, I expect you to have your work done when I return on Friday. -Severus_

Chase snorted. "Thanks, Severus," she muttered, but wrapped herself up in a blanket and went to the kitchen to get her work. There was no point in not getting it done, and in a few hours she'd be doing it just to stave off boredom, anyway.

Damien came by the next day to visit her. "How are you doing?" She asked, with no small amount of embarrassment. Of all the times she could have been ill, didn't it just _have_ to be his father's funeral...

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "It doesn't seem real yet. I keep thinking it's all a prank, you know, and he'll walk through the door shouting 'April Fool' or something." He looked at her intensely. "Is this what it was like when your mother- Sorry, but..."

"It's all right," Chase said soothingly. "And... I don't know. I mean, the Muggle police think she's dead, but there's no real proof for it. I don't think I'm the best person to ask," she added apologetically.

"Yeah," he said softly. Chase was ashamed of herself. "It's not your fault," he said, noting her expression.

"Yeah," she answered just as quietly. She felt as though something in their relationship had shifted, but she didn't know how. Was this bringing them closer, or pushing them apart? She looked up at him, and seeing that he had withdrawn, didn't try to continue the conversation. Like any Ravenclaw, Chase was in her element when she had the answers, and completely lost when she didn't.

XXX

"Don't you think we should call this off?" Chase said, frowning as she hoisted her Comet Two-Sixty on her shoulder. "I mean, Potter's out and Gryffindor doesn't have a reserve Seeker. Doesn't this seem a little unfair?"

"I don't think so," Roger Davies said, shrugging. "Besides, it's Potter's own fault he went off into that corridor."

_Yeah,_ Chase thought, following the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team out onto the pitch. _Anything for the win, right?_ She had been thinking about resigning from the team at the end of the year, simply because she wasn't enjoying the sport anymore. It was too competitive, too cutthroat.

"Captains, shake hands," Madam Pomfrey instructed Wood and Davies, who obliged with little grace. "Mount your brooms!" The teams mounted, and Chase wondered again how this match hadn't been canceled. She knew _why_: Gryffindor wanted to recover the 150 points Potter and his friends had lost them. But it would be impossible without a Seeker, anyone could see that.

As she rose into the air with the rest of the team, Chase headed immediately for the Quaffle, which had just been dropped by Katie Bell. Their Seeker had shaken the Gryffindor team, whether or not Wood wanted to admit it.

"And Ravenclaw Chaser Carter recovers the dropped Quaffle, dodges a Bludger from Fred Weasley -George? One of them, anyway," Lee Jordan announced to the crowd. "Nice dodge- Really great Chaser, she is, and highly attractive, if I do say so myself-"

"_Jordan_!" McGonagall said warningly.

Chase allowed herself a smile as she sped toward the goal posts. Jordan was pretty cute, himself.

"She shoots- Oh, bad luck, Chase," Jordan said as Wood blocked her throw. He smirked and shook his head slightly.

"Oh really?" Chase said, raising her eyebrows in return and looping back toward the center of the pitch. "We'll see."

She got the Quaffle again, and before fifteen minutes had passed she and the other Ravenclaw Chasers had gained a seventy-zero lead over Gryffindor. By the end of thirty minutes, Gryffindor had only managed to score two goals; Ravenclaw led by 130 points. _Ridiculous,_ Chase thought as she weaved through players on the pitch. She had half a mind to fly over to the Ravenclaw Seeker and tell her to find the Snitch as quickly as she could when-

_Crack_. A bludger slammed into her left shoulder, and a wave of nausea broke over her. Gasping, she gripped the handle of her broom and willed herself to stay conscious. The Ravenclaw Seeker, a second-year reserve named Cho Chang, signaled Davies for a time-out, pointing to Chase. "Get the Snitch!" Chase shouted, shaking her head as vigorously as she dared.

"But-" Cho started.

"_Get the Snitch, I'm fine!_" Chase hollered back.

"She's mad," Jordan said admiringly. "Carter takes a bludger to the shoulder, and it looks pretty nasty from here- _Chang's seen the Snitch_!"

Chase, still fighting to stay on her broom, watched as Cho pulled out of her dive with the Snitch in her hand. She had only done it to end the game; there was a definite lack of celebratory spirit as the Ravenclaw team landed, all of them avoiding hugging Chase. She couldn't blame them; she wasn't in the mood to have anyone besides Madam Pomfrey touching her at the moment.

"Sit still, then," the nurse said twenty minutes later, after Cho had helped Chase up to the hospital wing and explained what happened.

"See you in the common room, Chase," Cho said, and left.

Madam Pomfrey rapped Chase's shoulder hard with her wand, and Chase stuffed a handful of bedsheet into her mouth to keep a shout of "_fucking hell!_" from escaping. "All right, then, hold out your arm."

Chase looked up at her, the corner of the sheet still in her mouth, and whimpered.

"Oh, just hold it out. And spit out that sheet; it's not hygienic," Madam Pomfrey added, the ghost of a smile playing around her mouth.

Chase did as she was told, wincing as she held her arm out. The nurse began rotating and bending it, causing Chase's eyes to water.

"Well, it's healed, but you'll need to take it easy for a while," the nurse said, conjuring a sling and slipping Chase's arm into it (Chase bit down on her lip to keep from crying out). "Good thing exams are done; you're left-handed, correct?"

"Yes," Chase said weakly, standing up. "Thank you," she added, leaving and trying not to hit herself in the face with the heavy door. She found Severus leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest and smirking. "Shut it," Chase snarled at him.

"Well, I hate to say I told you so, but-"

"Severus. Just because my wand arm's out of commission doesn't mean I can't make you miserable."

"Sad to say, but you do it often enough that I've become immune," he said nonchalantly.

Chase growled and stalked off toward Ravenclaw Tower. _I really fucking hate him right now,_ she thought angrily. But part of her mind -one that wasn't drunk with pain- knew he was right. He had told her Quidditch was dangerous; they'd had a blistering row about it last summer, and it had been her sneering that he was still bitter over never having made the Slytherin team as a student and telling him "you're just scared I might be better at something than you are!" that had gotten him to back down. Chase also thought Harry Potter being made an exception to the first-year rule might have had something to do with it; when he'd been confirmed as Gryffindor Seeker, Severus had bought Chase her Comet Two-Sixty.

"_What is broken every time it is spoken?_" A familiar songlike voice rang out, and Chase realized she'd reached the Ravenclaw dormitory.

"Er-" She had been taken aback by the sudden realization, and couldn't say the answer fast enough.

"I am sorry," the eagle said sadly, and turned solid once more.

"No, I've got it! It's silence! _Silence!_" Chase said, banging on the door with her right hand, but the eagle remained solid. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath, and she flung herself down on the steps, thinking of the butterbeers that surely awaited her upstairs. If nothing else, they would have taken her mind off the stabbing pains in her shoulder.


	10. Enemies of the Heir

**Chapter Ten: Enemies of the Heir**

_1992_

"Morning," Chase yawned as she stumbled into the kitchen.

"Where were you at three-thirty?" Severus asked from behind the _Daily Prophet_.

"Asleep." Chase opened the cupboard. "Severus. I know it's hard for you to imagine, but _there are people in this world who are shorter than you, and one of them lives in this house_. Stop putting the coffee cups on the top shelf. _Ouch!_" She shook her hand where the cup had fallen on it, and shot Severus a murderous look. "Thanks, asshole."

"Watch your mouth," he said, lowering his wand. "And where, exactly, were you sleeping?"

"On the couch. Damien and I missed the first train back from Merseyside."

"And you couldn't have let me know?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, dear uncle, but we don't have a telephone." She reached for the percolator. "I don't even think there's a line running to this part of the street, actually."

Severus grunted in reply.

Chase sat down at the table and frowned at her hand. "That actually did hurt, Severus."

"Poor baby," he said with a sneer. "Do you need me to kiss it and make it all better?"

"No, I need you to stop putting the coffee cups where I can't fucking reach them!"

"What did I tell you about your mouth?"

"Something I didn't listen to."

"Cut the attitude. And by the way, you're grounded for the next two weeks."

Chase drank her coffee in silence, smirking to herself. Truthfully, she'd expected a harsher punishment for staying out so far past her curfew. And... Well, she and Damien _had_ missed their original train back from Merseyside, she thought as she rinsed out the cup and went to her bedroom. But not out of simple negligence, and if Severus suspected anything different, Chase wouldn't see the outside world again until she was seventeen. But as long as he believed they'd just lost track of time...

She stretched out on her bed, folding her hands under her head, and closed her eyes. It had been a fun trip; just her and Damien, her first trip to the beach. The two of them had done all of the "silly love-song crap," as he put it; holding hands, stealing little kisses when they thought no one was looking, laughing, and enjoying one of the year's only really beautiful days.

Towards sunset, Chase had found a small, secluded area and pointed it out to Damien. A quick exploration revealed that the area wasn't dangerous, and after waiting a while to see if one of the lifeguards would yell at them to get out of it, they laid out their towels and sat, watching the last rays of the sun setting into the ocean. When night had really fallen, they had shared what Chase had thought would be their last kiss of the evening... Except that this one was different. More passionate, and with an unidentifiable longing. It was a long time before they'd broken apart, when a gang of passing Muggle teenagers had started hollering at them to "get a room!" _Stupid kids,_ Chase thought contemptuously. It would have been nice to know where that kiss would lead them-

_Tap-tap-tap_. Chase looked up; an owl was tapping at her window. "Severus!" She yelled as she let the owl in. "Book list just came!"

"Bring it here," he called back.

She pulled the envelopes (_There's two?_ she thought curiously) off the owl's leg and headed back into the kitchen, opening the first one. "What's up with all the Lockhart books?" She asked as she resumed her seat at the table.

Severus looked around the newspaper. "The what books?"

"Almost all the new books are by Gilderoy Lockhart." She handed the list to Severus, who read it in wide-eyed horror.

"He didn't..."

"Who didn't?"

Severus sighed. "Chase, Gilderoy Lockhart is your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Ooh, really?" Chase said, giggling. "So tell me, should I give him bedroom eyes or kiss-me lips?"

"You disgust me," Severus growled.

She laughed and opened the second envelope. A blue-and-bronze badge fell out. "Severus," she said, grinning as she picked it up. "Looks like your disgusting niece is a _prefect_."

"Congratulations," he said, and for the first time that morning, he sounded pleased.

XXX

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware_.

The words painted on a corridor wall had spread through the school like wildfire, as had Professor Binns's story about the origins of the Chamber of Secrets. Chase, as a prefect, was trying to reassure the nervous first-year Ravenclaws that they wouldn't be in danger as long as they followed the rules, and all the while wondering how many of them actually believed her. If they didn't, she couldn't blame them; she didn't half believe it, herself.

Damien, who was also a prefect and had similar duties and concerns from the Gryffindors, was less worried. "It's just an old wives' tale," he said to Chase as they walked down to the dungeons before a Potions lesson. "I mean, come on. It's not like a cat has any real magical powers, right? I have a wand; that's got to be some help."

"Damien," Chase said, a note of exasperation creeping into her voice. "The thing in the Chamber of Secrets is something Salazar Slytherin put there. The 'enemies of the Heir' are _Muggleborns_. It's just good luck none of the students or professors were there. You mark my words, unless Dumbledore does something, there's going to be attacks on Muggleborns."

"Well, when?" He spread his arms. "There's a bunch of us walking around right the fuck now. Where is this monster, and why aren't all the Muggleborns in the school Petrified?"

"With everyone on the alert?" Chase raised her eyebrows, and they settled into their usual spot against the wall. "The monster is controlled by someone. Why would they set it loose when everyone's sleeping with one eye open and looking over their shoulders?"

"Controlled by someone," Damien said. "You don't mean Potter, do you? After last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you saw it, didn't you?"

"Saw what?"

Damien looked at her, aghast. "You didn't go to the Dueling Club meeting last night?"

"No," Chase said, stretching her back against the wall. "Severus told me Lockhart had organized it. I might have gone, just to see Severus hand Lockhart his arse on a platter, but I wasn't feeling well." She cleared her throat pointedly.

"I see," he said, leaning back against the wall and apparently overwhelmed by feminine mystique.

"So what did Potter do?"

"Er... Draco Malfoy set a snake on him. I don't think I've heard the spell he used before."

"_Serpensortia_?"

"Yeah, that was it. I think your uncle gave it to him. I think Malfoy conjured a cobra."

"Christ," Chase said. "He gave that to a second-year?" The dungeon door flew open then, and the fifth-years began filing in. Chase dropped her voice. "Well, aside from my uncle's questionable spells..."

"The snake went after a Hufflepuff," Damien said, picking a seat on Chase's right side at a table near the back of the room. "Looked like it was going to take the kid's head off, but Potter went after it and started, I dunno, hissing at it. And the snake backed off. That Hufflepuff was hacked off, though."

"Hissing?" Chase said, frowning. "Like a Parselmouth?"

"What's a Parselmouth?"

"It's a wizard who can talk to snakes. It's a rare ability, really rare; Slytherin himself was known for it. It's not usually the mark of a decent witch or wizard, though. But if people really think Potter is the Heir-"

"Miss Carter, kindly shut your mouth and pay attention," Severus snapped from the front of the classroom.

Chase jumped and turned forward. "Yes, sir." When he'd turned back to the board, Chase bent low over her notes. "Potter's not Slytherin's heir, and I don't care who says differently."

"Of course not," Damien said, assembling the day's ingredients. "I didn't expect _Slytherin's_ heir to be in Gryffindor."

XXX

"Severus." Minerva McGonagall tapped him on the shoulder. "There's been another attack. Come with me."

Curious, he followed her. Had one of the Slytherins been attacked? Not likely, he thought, but why else would Minerva call him?

They entered the hospital wing, past a bed where Hermione Granger lay stiff as a board, and down the row to the last bed in the ward. Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtains aside, and Severus grabbed the bedside table to steady himself.

Chase lay on the bed, stiff as a board, her eyes open and glassy, her arm outstretched as though reaching for something.

"She had this mirror with her," Minerva said, holding it up for him to see. It was the small makeup mirror Mrs. Grant had given Chase for Christmas. "Do you know what she might have been doing with it?"

He shook his head, still trying to take in the sight before him.

Madam Pomfrey came up beside him. "Pomona told me the mandrakes will be ready in a couple of weeks," she said quietly. "In the meantime, if there's anything you need..."

He nodded, turned, and left, grateful not to run into anyone on the way down to his office. He stayed there for the rest of the night, the image of Chase's petrified body seeming to press on his eyeballs. He thought of the mirror. Why had Minerva asked what Chase had been doing with it? Checking her makeup, surely; wasn't that what girls did with them? He was about to fall asleep with this thought, when another one came that jolted him wide-awake.

_She wasn't wearing any makeup_.

Severus sat up and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Chase not wearing makeup was unremarkable by itself; despite Mrs. Grant's finest efforts, there wasn't much in the way of cosmetics for someone with skin as pale as Chase's, and what little she did wear often had the unfortunate side effect of making her look like a badly-painted china doll. Having the mirror out when she didn't have any makeup to check...

When he entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, Severus learned that Dumbledore had been removed. _Wonderful_, he though angrily, stabbing at his eggs. How much more could possibly go wrong?

Two weeks later, he stood over a large brass cauldron, frowning as he stirred the contents within. The Mandrake Restorative Draught was done; he ladled it into five flasks and took them to the hospital wing.

"Thank you, Severus," Madam Pomfrey said, taking four of them off him and nodding towards Chase's bed.

He walked over and carefully poured the potion down Chase's throat. For a moment, nothing happened. Then she coughed, her arm fell, and she said, "Basilisk!"

"What?" Madam Pomfrey said, hurrying over to Chase's bed.

"That thing petrifying the students! Hermione Granger told me it was a Basilisk!"

"It was!" Granger's voice said from the other end of the ward. She was sitting up, her eyes bright with excitement. Severus had learned to both love and hate that look. "Harry was hearing it talk -he's a Parselmouth, you know- and I figured it had to be some kind of serpent. So I went to the library and found out it was a Basilisk, and I ran into Chase on the way back and told her to use a mirror to look around corners if she had one."

Chase nodded vigorously. "We saw its reflection."

The door banged open at that moment, and a second-year Hufflepuff came puffing in. "Madam Pomfrey! Professor Dumbledore is back, and there's a feast in the Great Hall. He says if the students are all un-petrified, send them down."

"Very well," she said. "They'll be along once I give them all a clean bill of health."

Severus, sensing his job was done, left and made his way down to the Great Hall. Twenty minutes later, Chase entered, and the Ravenclaw table stood and cheered. Damien left the Gryffindor table to meet her in the middle of the hall, where he and Chase stood wrapped in a kiss for several long moments. Sudden, inexplicable jealousy flared in Severus upon seeing them, but he pushed it down and concentrated on his plate.


	11. Her Worst Memory

**Chapter Eleven: Her Worst Memory**

_1993_

"Severus hates him," Chase said when Damien asked her about Sirius Black. They were walking down Diagon Alley, buying new supplies for the following year. "And as I understand it, the feeling is mutual. Or was when they were in school, at any rate. Flourish and Blott's next?"

"D'you reckon what they're saying about him is true?" Damien asked, nodding to indicate he'd heard and agreed with her suggestion.

"Which part?"

"Any of them."

"Well... It's pretty well-documented what he did to those Muggles twelve years ago, and how he killed Peter Pettigrew. But as far as what Severus has said... You have to understand, Damien, my uncle holds a very low opinion of Black. He could make Christ sound like a soulless monster, if he didn't like him. Wonder what kind of protection they'll have at the school this year. ...Damien? Babe?" She looked around at him, realizing they'd reached Flourish and Blotts.

Damien didn't answer. He was looking into the bookstore's windows. "Kettleburn wants us to have _those_ this year?" His eyes widened as he looked at several dozen snarling, snapping books, all of their covers embossed with the words _The Monster Book of Monsters_, in cages. The harried-looking owner was poking a walking stick into the melee, and as Chase and Damien watched, one of the books snapped shut on his hand.

"_Kettleburn_ assigned that?" Chase said incredulously. Then she let out a low whistle. "Glad I dropped Care of Magical Creatures, then. Shall we?"

Damien nodded. "Best look around for a bit though, I think; the owner looks like he'll cry if I ask him to reach in that cage again."

Chase agreed; secretly, she felt the best way to get one of the_ Monster Books_ was to Stun one and use a Summoning Charm. Instead she and Damien meandered around the store, getting their copies of _Advanced Potion-Making_, _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6_, and _Confronting the Faceless_; Damien ventured back to the owner to ask for a _Monster Book_ (Chase was sure she heard the owner whimper at Damien's request) while Chase looked for the N.E.W.T. course book for Muggle Studies and _Advanced Rune Translation_.

"Chase! _Chase_!" Damien's slightly-panicked voice broke into her search. She turned to see him struggling to keep his _Monster Book_ closed. "Hold this, would you?"

"How?" The book snarled at her. "Shut up!" She snapped at it. The book only snarled louder.

"Just... Um, I don't know," he admitted. "Ouch!"

The book had snapped shut on Damien's thumb; he dropped it, and it flipped onto its side and began scuttling away.

"Oh no you don't," Chase muttered, attempting to stomp on the book's cover. It snapped shut just shy of her toes and kept moving. Finally, Damien threw himself on top of the book.

"All right," He said, straightening up. He'd pulled off his belt and was holding it threateningly over the book. "Let's try this again, you bastard of a book." Chase held her wand on it, but Damien managed to belt the book shut without anything more than a few growls, which continued as they paid for their books. "You know," he said as they walked out of the store, "I think you had the better idea, dropping Care of Magical Creatures."

"The lessons will never be boring, at least," Chase answered.

XXX

"Professor? Professor! Open up!" Damien knocked sharply on Severus's office door.

Severus rose and walked to the door, thoroughly irritated at having been addressed thus by a student. "Grant," he growled as he opened the door, "I do not appreciate being demanded-" He stopped when he saw why Damien had been so rude.

Chase was pale and shaking, and looked as though she might faint at any moment. Or vomit. As he ushered them into the office, he heard her let out a small, dry sob. "What happened?" He asked.

"There were dementors on the train, sir," Damien said, guiding Chase to the chair Severus had just vacated. He, too, looked shaken, but it was plain he wasn't nearly as concerned about himself as he was for Chase. "They came into our compartment and... One of them got really close to her, and she started screaming about 'why did you leave me'. She kept it up until we got to Hogsmeade Station; I only got her calmed down just before we got to the carriages."

Severus nodded; any other student, even one of his own Slytherins, he would have just sent up to the hospital wing, but Chase... _Why am I not sending her there, really?_ He asked himself as he took down a bottle of Calming Draught.

_Because she's too special to me._ The answer surprised him, but he maintained his cool detachment as he handed Chase the cup.

Chase took the drink, somewhat reluctantly. When she had settled, she looked up at Severus.

"You don't need to explain," he said. "Go up to Ravenclaw Tower; I will tell Flitwick where you've gone and why, and have one of the house-elves send you some food."

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Chase said, and walked to the door without another word.

"Chase-" Damien began, but she shut the door; Severus never knew if she'd heard him.

"Go to the Great Hall," he told Damien. "The Sorting will begin in a moment. I believe one of your sisters is starting this year?"

"No, sir." Damien was still staring at the door in bewilderment. "Must be another Grant. I'm the only magic one in my family."

Severus turned to Damien, who was the same height as him. "Let her be," he said quietly.

"But sir, I don't understand. She knows my father's dead-"

"That's just it, Grant," he said roughly. "And she doesn't _know_ that her mother is dead. Leave her alone; if she wants to tell you anything, she'll do it when she's ready."

"But it's the same thing-"

"No, it isn't." He flung open the door. "And if you go anywhere near her tonight, I promise to make you rue the day you met her."

XXX

"He's right," Chase said the next morning. She and Damien had a free period together after Transfiguration, and Damien had spent the first five minutes of it telling her what Severus had said to him. "Just let it go, okay? It was stupid."

"Chase, I think you really might need to talk about it." Damien leaned against a pillar, looking concernedly at her.

"Maybe I _need_ to," Chase said. "But I don't _want_ to. Just leave it be."

"Chase-"

"_Drop it_."

"But you really-"

"I said no, all right!" Chase snapped. Heads turned from across the courtyard, and she lowered her voice. "I didn't pressure you to talk about your dad after he died. Don't pressure me to talk about my mother, that's all I'm asking." She pulled out her copy of _Confronting the Faceless_ and began reading it.

"I'm not pressuring you," he said desperately. "Chase, you really scared me last night. I've never seen you like that before."

"And you'll never have to see me like that again." She looked up at him. "Look, if all I need to not remember the day she left is to stay away from the dementors, that's easy; Dumbledore will never let them into the castle."

"And what about Hogsmeade trips?"

"What about them?" She turned a page in her book.

"Dumbledore told us last night we'll have to walk by them to get into Hogsmeade."

Chase looked up at him again, this time with a broad grin. "Lupin's got Patronuses on the syllabus."

The bell rang, and Damien followed Chase to Lupin's classroom, calling "What's a Patronus?" after her.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" The sixth-year N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts class chorused after Professor Lupin. He had just explained to them what a Patronus was (Chase had seen Damien's face relax when Lupin explained that they were used to ward off dementors), and the face of every student was eagerly fixed on Lupin.

"Very good," he said. "But I'm afraid that's the easy part. You see, a Patronus is fueled by happy memories. Not just any happy memory, mind, but the happiest memory you possess. Focus just on that for a moment, and on the count of three, attempt to produce a Patronus."

"Professor," Damien said, raising his hand. "What does a Patronus look like?"

"It depends on the caster," he said. Then he addressed the class at large. "Producing a full Patronus is one of the hardest things a wizard can do. We'll try it out, and if you can't make one right now, don't be disappointed; we'll work on them until everyone can. Now, on the count of three... One... Two... _Three_!"

It took over a month for the N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts class to start producing Patronuses. Chase asked Severus for extra lessons, just so Damien could have the peace of mind knowing that she was okay to pass the dementors on their next Hogsmeade visit.

"So how about today?" Damien said as he settled himself next to Chase's desk on the last lesson before Halloween.

Chase smiled. "I've got a surprise for you," she said in a singsong voice.

"Oh goody, so do I," he smirked.

"You _didn't_!"

"I didn't what?" He asked innocently.

"Damien Grant, you've been taking extra lessons with Snape, haven't you?"

"Might have done," he said, and laughed at the look on her face. "Come off it. If you couldn't make one, I would've had to."

"Well, you just wait, _Mister_ Grant," Chase said. "You'll see if I can produce a Patronus or not."

"We all will in a moment, Chase," Lupin said as he entered the classroom, smiling good-naturedly. "Wand at the ready, everyone," he said to the class at large. "Spread out; this is the last day we're going to work on Patronuses. If you'd like to do some extra work on them after today, see me after class and I'll work something out. On the count of three, think of the happiest thought you can. One, two, _three_!"

Chase's thoughts immediately flew to Damien and the day she'd met him. "_Expecto Patronum_!" She cried. Next to her, Damien also said the incantation.

"Well, well." Lupin smiled as he watched Chase's Patronus, a small and beautiful Arabian horse, walk serenely over to Damien's, a larger, more muscular stallion, and as the silvery horses touched noses. "One characteristic of a Patronus," he said, turning back to the class, "is that they can sometimes reflect a deep connection between two people."

The girls in the class let out a collective "_Aww_!" and the boys shifted uncomfortably. Chase, while quietly thrilled that she and Damien had such similar Patronuses, thought she might puke if things got any cuter.

"Chase, please see me after class," Lupin said. He turned to a Hufflepuff boy and said, "Hold your wand like this... That's it..."

"Professor?" Chase asked as the rest of the class filed out an hour later.

He looked up at her with an unreadable expression. "Do you ever hear that you look just like your mother?"

"Only every day," Chase said. "You knew her?"

"I did. She was a year below me here." He studied her again, his expression still unreadable. "She really did give you everything, didn't she. Except your eyes."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I think they're my father's, but I've never met him."

He moved toward her slightly, as though to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but stopped. "That was a wonderful Patronus. I assume Severus trained you?"

"Yes, a bit," she admitted. She wanted to ask Lupin what else he knew about her, but couldn't bring herself to be so blunt with him. "And thank you." She headed to Charms, her mind buzzing.


	12. Ghosts of the Past

**Chapter Twelve: Ghosts of the Past**

_1994_

"Morning, sunshine," Chase said as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself some coffee.

"What are you so happy about?" Severus muttered from behind the _Daily Prophet_.

"What's not to be happy about? It's a nice day, the sun is out, and I don't have any more homework to do." She poured some milk into her mug and sat down.

"That was a rhetorical question."

Chase didn't answer, but Severus could imagine her rolling her eyes at him over her cup.

They sat in silence for a while. He passed her the paper when he'd finished with it, and had started to get up for more coffee when they heard knocking at the door.

"I'll get it," he said. Chase grunted, turning the page. As he headed for the door, he heard her mutter, "Bulgaria for the win, my _arse_."

The knocking started again, and Severus opened the door.

"Severus..."

_Impossible_, he thought.

"Severus, is Chase here with you?"

"You shouldn't have come!" He hissed, shutting the door behind him and looking at his sister for the first time in eleven years.

Rowen and Chase could have been twins: They were both pale, with long, straight, jet-black hair, extremely pretty heart-shaped faces, and standing next to each other Chase would have been only slightly taller. The only noticeable difference between them was that Rowen's eyes were dark brown and her face was more lined.

"Severus, please. I haven't seen her in so long-"

"Eleven years, if you want to be precise. Why did you come back now?"

"Because it was the only opportunity I had."

Severus studied Rowen more closely. Wherever she'd been for the last decade plus, it was clear she'd been living rough. Her clothes were cheap and poorly made, and torn in a few places. He also remembered her hair being much thicker; it looked stringy, as though she had only recently begun bathing again. "What happened to you?"

Rowen opened her mouth to answer, but then the door opened behind them.

"Severus," Chase said. "Who are you..." Her voice trailed off as she saw her mother. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Chase," Rowen said breathlessly. "Do you remember me?"

Chase goggled for another minute, then closed her mouth and nodded slowly.

Rowen walked toward her, arms outstretched. "Look at you," she said, smiling. "It's been so long-"

"Eleven years, last time I checked," Chase said, and Severus was shocked at the coldness of her voice. "And if you touch me, I swear I'll turn you into an ant and step on you."

He turned to her with "Young lady" on his lips, but she turned to glare at him.

"Keep your mouth shut, Severus; I don't need your input."

"Young lady!" He and Rowen snapped at the same time.

"Shut up! Both of you, just shut the fuck up!" Chase shrieked, pulling out her wand and aiming it at them.

"Chase!" Severus made a grab for her wand.

"Not in broad daylight in a Muggle neighborhood!" Rowen said sharply. "Put it away _now_."

Chase laughed humorlessly. "You lost the right to tell me what to do a long time ago, Mother. If you still even deserve to be called that."

Rowen looked as though Chase had smacked her.

"Enough!" Severus said. "Chase, put your wand away this instant or you're grounded until September, understood?"

Slowly Chase lowered her wand, but her expression didn't soften. Indeed, she was wearing a look Severus wouldn't have been surprised to see on his own face: Her lip was curling and her eyes were icy. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me where you disappeared to? Actually, don't. I stopped caring eight years ago."

Rowen swallowed, her eyes swimming with tears. "Chase... Baby, please. Just let me explain-"

"Haven't you been listening? _I don't care_. Just go; I was doing fine without you." Chase turned and headed for the stairs.

"Chase, you were always the most important thing in my life."

"Yeah. I believe that." Severus heard Chase's voice crack, then she ran up the stairs. A second later, he heard her bedroom door slam shut.

"_Chase_!" He hollered, whirling around and facing up to her room. "Slam that door _one more time_..." No response. Breathing heavily through his nose, he turned back to Rowen. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks. "You know it was a mistake coming here?"

She nodded. "I thought she'd be happy."

Severus was about to scold her -how stupid could she be?-, but seeing how miserable she was shut him up. He couldn't blame Chase for being angry; after all, it had been eleven years since she'd seen her mother, eleven years without any letters or any clues at all that she was even alive. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"The Leaky Cauldron," she said, wiping at her streaming eyes. "I'll just go." She turned and began walking down the dark alley by their house.

"Rowen!" Severus ran after her, grabbing her arm. "I'll talk to her."

She smiled weakly. "Thank you. And Severus," She hesitated for a second. "Thank you for my daughter."

XXX

"Chase?" Severus knocked on her bedroom door later that night.

"Go away," she answered. She sounded as though she had a head cold; obviously she'd been crying most of the afternoon.

"No," he said. He tried to turn the knob. "Open this door."

"I said fuck off."

He pointed his wand at the keyhole. _Alohomora_! He thought, and turned the knob again. It opened, and he stepped into the room. Chase was lying on her bed, her back to the door.

"What part of 'go away' don't you understand?" She asked, not looking at him.

"Chase, I know you're angry at her-"

"Oh, so we _are _smart enough to get that, at least."

"-but she's still your mother."

"The hell she is." She sat up and glared at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. "Why don't either of you get it? She doesn't give a damn about me; she never did. She just dumped me at the first opportunity."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Be as stubborn as you want. She's coming 'round for supper tomorrow."

"WHAT?" Chase jumped up, her fists balled at her sides. "No. Severus, no. I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk to her, I don't need her in my life."

"Too bad. She's coming and there's nothing you can do about it."

"I could stay up here," Chase said, flinging herself back onto the bed. "Or I could go out with Damien. How are you going to stop me? I'm seventeen, remember?"

XXX

_I will never forgive him._ Chase sat at her usual place at the table, arms crossed over her chest, glaring down at her plate. Severus had threatened to "conveniently forget" that she had an Apparition test to re-take the next morning if she refused to meet with Rowen. So, with little grace, Chase had conceded to supper with her mother.

By anyone's standards, it wasn't going well. Chase had barely acknowledged Rowen's presence, and had answered her questions with monosyllabic answers.

"So," Rowen started. "I hear you've done well at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," Chase mumbled. Severus kicked her under the table. She kicked him back, feeling a savage pleasure when he grunted in pain.

"That's good." Rowen hesitated, then said. "And you're in Ravenclaw?"

"Yeah."

"Good, good. Do you learn a lot at school?"

Chase stood and threw her napkin down on the plate. "All right, I've had supper with her," she snapped at Severus. "Can I go now?"

"You may not," he snarled, also standing. "Sit down this instant."

She threw herself back down in the chair. "Fine," she growled.

"Look," Rowen said, also throwing down her napkin. "I'm sorry I left you. I don't know how many more times I have to say it-"

"As many as it takes for me to believe it," Chase said coldly. "And you'd best save your words, because newsflash: I'm never going to believe it."

"Chase, do you remember why I went out that day?"

She did remember: Rowen had told her she'd gotten a job offer and would only be gone for a few hours; in the meantime, she, Chase, should be quiet and sit tight until Mummy came back. And Chase had, sitting quietly until well into the night, waiting for Mummy to come back. She never had. "No, I don't," she lied. "But again, the more important question is if I care. I don't. How many times do _you_ have to hear it before you believe it?"

"You do care," Rowen said softly.

"If I cared, I would have listened by now."

"Enough," Severus growled, turning to Chase. "You will not speak to your mother like that."

"Fine," Chase said, shrugging. "I don't _have_ to talk at all."

"Now, what was that... Something you had to do tomorrow..."

"Yes," Chase said angrily. "I'm doing absolutely _spectacular_ at school." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her uncle rub his forehead in frustration.

XXX

"You can't stay angry at her forever." Damien picked up a Chocolate Frog and offered it to Chase. Two weeks after term started, they'd finally had their first opportunity to meet up in a broom closet on the fifth floor. Chase had just gotten done telling Damien everything that had conspired at the disastrous dinner between her, Severus, and Rowen.

"Can't I?" She shook her head at the candy.

"Okay, you _can_, but you _shouldn't_. Believe me, there's not a day that goes by I don't miss my dad, and don't regret the arguments we had." He opened the container and looked at the card. "Agrippa. 'Bout time, too; I've been looking for him for years."

Chase briefly felt ashamed of herself -why did she have to talk about not wanting to see her mother in front of Damien, who would never be able to make amends with his father? But her anger crowded out her sympathy. Besides which, Damien had had a great relationship with his dad. "Well, she just _waltzes_ in like nothing's the matter and expects me to come running to her, saying 'Oh Mummy, I'm so glad you're back! Let's go get our nails done and do other stupid girly things we should have been doing together for the last eleven years, while you were off fucking every dick in Europe!'" She shook her head disgustedly.

"Chase, don't you think you're being a little unreasonable?" Damien frowned at her. "I mean, she came back; obviously she wants to try-"

"She can try all she wants," Chase said shortly.

He sighed patiently. "Look, I know it's got to be hard for you, but at least hear her out at some point. Maybe something happened to her, that's why she was gone for so long."

"Like what?"

"Amnesia?" Chase stared flatly at him. "Okay, that's a stretch," Damien admitted. He looked at her again. "You think she was having sex all over Europe that whole time?"

"It's as good a guess as any." Chase rubbed her forehead. "I don't know."

"What about your uncle?"

"If he knows, he's not saying anything. He's not too happy with me at the moment."

"Why not?"

"He says it has something to do with me hexing a suit of armor to follow Draco Malfoy around and kick him in the arse every time he called someone a Mudblood."

XXX

Halloween was nearly over, and as the staff and students sat digesting their second feast in two days, their eyes were fixed on the Goblet of Fire. Every student from each school who was seventeen or older had put in their name, hoping to be selected to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. All day, after Chase had confirmed to the Ravenclaw table that she had indeed put her name in, Severus had overheard comments from several students:

"Carter? As Hogwarts champion? _Puh_-lease..."

"She's got it in the bag! I mean, she's one of the best students here..."

"Between pretty-boy Diggory and prom-queen Carter? Can I have a third option?"

"_Diggory_? He hasn't got the brainpower! Carter's pretty, but she's smart as well!"

"Have you _seen_ what she can do with a wand?"

Well, he thought after the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions had been announced, they'd all find out soon enough.

The blue flames licking out over the cup's brim turned red, and a third piece of parchment, charred around the edges, flew up. Dumbledore caught it and looked quickly at it. "The Hogwarts Champion," he rumbled, "is Chase Carter!"

The Ravenclaw table exploded; as Chase stood and made her way towards the headmaster, Severus found himself reflecting on the past eleven years. Chase had never been an easy child to raise, and he knew his life would have been easier had his sister never left and raised her without his input. But, he realized, Chase coming into his life had helped him.

He often struggled to remember why he kept going on, why his life was still worth living. At his lowest moments, he conjured his Patronus to remind himself of Lily Evans. She was his reason for living. And Chase... Chase, he realized, was just like Lily after all. Brainy, fiery, kind, beautiful, and even with that touch of mischief.

It wasn't mere coincidence, he knew. He would never have raised her to be like Eileen, satisfied with far less than she deserved; nor would he have raised her the way Rowen would have, as a spoiled princess who expected the world to present itself to her on a silver platter. He, Severus Snape, had raised the closest thing he would ever have to his own daughter in Lily's image.

It took Dumbledore's shout of _"Harry Potter_! Harry, could you come forward, please?_"_ to bring him back to the present. _What is it now_?

* * *

**TUNE IN FOR PART 2 OF THE CHASE SAGA: _STORM AND STRIFE,_ COMING TO A FFNet NEAR YOU!**


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